1. A breach or rent; a breaking forth into a loud, shrill sound.
2. An harangue; a long tirade on any subject.
3. A record of her attempt to climb out of writer's block

Monday, December 20, 2010

norridge rhymes with porridge - for a reason.

On Saturday, I stood on the corner of Cumberland and Lawrence, the freezing wind tearing through my leggings, making my thighs numb. Norridge, I thought. Frak you, Norridge!

I had arranged to meet M- at the comic book store he works at on the weekends for their holiday party and, apparently, I had not paid much attention to him the night before when he gave me directions.

Norridge is ugly. It is a placed cursed with squat homes and strip malls. Like LA but colder and uglier. So I wasn't in the best mood to start with. Not knowing where I was going, and unable to tell where I was on my GPS (frak you, GPS!), I walked all four corners of the intersection, even buttonholing old guys at the gas station. I walked up this block, up that block, down that street and back again. No frakking comic book store.

By this time, it was dark, the temperature had fallen to 16 (but the windchill made it feel like 8) and I stumbled to the McDonalds to nurse my frostbitten fingers and numb ass.

I texted M-:

'Dude. Your store apparently has an anti-girl force field covering it because I can't find it. So I'm at the McDonalds until my frostbite goes away. When you're done, you should come see me.'

I listened to the piped in Jesus music for a few minutes, grumbling about how I love this dude but man, the burbs suck, I can't feel my fingers, he better be glad I'm his girlfriend...grumble, grumble.

He called.
'Where are you? Did you just ignore everything I said last night?'
'Hey! No! Well, maybe. I got the intersection right!'
'You are right across the street from us!'

Pause. I turned around to look out the window.
'I don't see you.'

In a very patient voice he said, 'Go back outside. Walk toward the gas station. Look for the Italian restaurant. Then Edible Arrangements. We are right there.'

'I'm not going back outside! It's 8 degrees!'
'Then you're ok hanging out at the McDonalds for over an hour?!'
There went my thoughts about rescue.
'SIGH. NO. Fine. I'll finish my coffee and go outside.'

Grumbling all the while, I went back into the freezing Norridge night - and found it where he said I'd find it. I had walked past this place THREE frakking times!

When I went inside, all the comic book boys cheered and I felt like an idiot but at least the story made them laugh. And I hope it showed how dedicated a girlfriend I fucking am.

Note: M- later revealed that after he hung up, he'd said to the shop owner, 'I'd go and rescue the damsel in distress but she's a feminist!!'